


Errant Strings

by Oh_Snapcrackle



Series: Canon Challenges / Prompts [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Reylo Weekly Challenge, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-20 08:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14890865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Snapcrackle/pseuds/Oh_Snapcrackle
Summary: Kylo and Rey have a bonding moment over food.“I think I like JubaJuba fruit. I’d sell a few stormtroopers for one, too.”He stares at her like the words aren’t registering. As if something has fried his circuits and he isn’t quite computing.“I think I’d sell them all.” He whispers and then realizes what he said before pushing back in his chair and putting some distance between them. She can just see the tips of his ears turning red as he turns away to stab at his fish.A dumping ground for drabbles from prompts and challenges. Above is a sample. More to be added very soon.





	1. Maybe Someday

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for dropping in. I've started to amass quite the collection of drabbles and mini-fics from various prompts (mostly from #reyloweeklychallenge hosted by [@two-halves-of-reylo](https://two-halves-of-reylo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr). So here is my dumping ground for all my reylo ramblings. Updates will be fast to start - I've got a few pieces to add and newer ones will be added as they are created. 
> 
> And if one of them strikes your fancy, please let me know! I love to know what you think. Or if you have a prompt you would like me to tackle, bring it on! (Canon especially!) You can message me here, drop a comment, or reach out on tumblr [@ohsnapcrackle](http://ohsnapcrackle.tumblr.com/).

 

 **Summary:**  Kylo and Rey have a bonding moment over food.

This short bit was written for the [@two-halves-of-reylo](https://tmblr.co/mPpBon99ynVr4jbPTfmGYEw) weekly challenge. This week’s challenge was “food.”

\------

 

Rations, again.

It’s not horrible. She isn’t starving like she did on Jakku. But now that she has had a taste of the galaxy’s bounty, it’s hard to not look at the mush in her bowl and wish it was something else. Something with flavor. Something with spice. Hell, something that tasted like dirt would be better than this gruel. She idly pushes it around after taking a spoonful, suddenly not feeling like eating.

Well…thats not accurate. She feels ravenous. If someone put a bowl of fruit, rice, or anything but this crap in front of her she would stuff her face in seconds flat and spend the next couple of hours happily nursing a food pooch.

The thought of all the different foods she could possibly eat other than rations makes her mouth water.

“You okay?” Finn asks as he has a seat next to her, ration bowl in hand. “You’re not eating much.”

“Not that hungry,” She mutters, and then her stomach growls loudly and she flushes a little in embarrassment. Finn raises an eyebrow.

“You sure about that?”

She grabs her bowl and clutches it to her chest before starting to get up.

“Just can’t seem to stomach the rations, right now. But I’ll save it for later. Maybe after I train a little I’ll feel like eating.”

He watches her with a furrowed brow as she leaves with a wave, but turns back to the table when Rose has a seat across from him and asks a question. Probably about what is wrong with Rey. She loves her friends dearly, but this entire spending time together thing all the time is taking a small toll on her sanity. Deciding to follow what she told Finn, she stumbles off toward her meditation spot with her little bowl of rations. Maybe if she let her mind slip away and clear then she would feel better about the gruel.

Her little meditation spot isn’t much, but there isn’t another place other than the cockpit that gives her such a spectacular view of space. So she slides into the gunner’s seat and crosses her legs. She leaves her little bowl between her legs, before closing her eyes and letting her mind drift.

Sometimes, when she sits in the calm quiet of the gunner’s seat he will visit. She doesn’t know how or why it works sometimes and then doesn’t others, but apparently, the force is motion because tonight it decides to bridge them across the galaxy.

“Scavenger.”

She opens her eyes and meets his across the short span of the room he is in. She recognizes it immediately. It’s his chambers. They’ve met enough in the bond now to know specific places.

“Ben.”

His jaw does that twitch it always does when she calls him by his given name. But he doesn’t stop her.

“The gunner’s seat again. Getting tired of being around the rebel scum?”

She frowns at that, and he purses his lips.

Then her eyes fall to the tray of food on his table. Apparently, it was supper time where he was, too. And his supper looks so much better than hers. She tilts her head to see, trying to imagine what each bit would taste like. There is a bowl of fruit, some of which she doesn’t recognize, and a plate of meat. It looks like some type of fish. There are steaming vegetables and some type of sauce. She frowns as the smell of it all hits, and she curses this bond. This bond that is becoming so strong she can now smell the food on his table.

She only looks up, cheeks heated, when he clears his throat. Their eyes meet, and for a second they hold, until his eyes travel down to her lap and he raises an eyebrow.

“Is that all the resistance has to offer?”

“For the time being,” She replies, trying to put as much cheerfulness into it. She fails. Even she can hear the disappointment in her voice.

He snorts and turns to grab a fruit.

“So you turned down all of this, for that.”

There isn’t a hint of crack or waver to his voice, but there is something else she can’t quite identify. She wants to say it is almost a joke or a ribbing, but she doesn’t think its that either. Besides, she has never known him to have a sense of humor.

She looks down at the bowl of gruel and picks up the spoon. She carefully brings it to her mouth and swallows, not looking away from his gaze. She has to really fight down the urge to spit it out. She swallows and takes a breath before smiling. She holds out the empty spoon, a spark of triumph in her eyes.

“Food is food wherever you are. And I didn’t join for the food. I joined for the company.”

His eyes slide away from her face, and he turns to grab a fruit from the bowl. He tilts his head just so he can make eye contact and then takes a slow bite. Whatever the fruit is, it’s juicy and blue. Some of its flesh slides down his mouth and he reaches a hand to wipe it away before letting out a completely dramatic little content sigh.

“I don’t know. I think I’d sell a few of the stormtroopers for a good JubaJuba fruit.”

For a second her eyes are locked on his mouth and the blue flesh of the fruit. And she thinks her brain has short-circuited a bit because she can’t seem to stop imagining what that fruit tastes like. Is it sweet? It smells like it would be sweet and perhaps a bit tart. It looks fairly pulpy, too. A bit like a mango? Something tropical and fresh and oh so much better than the crud sitting in her lap. Then she snaps out of it, shaking her head.

“Can’t be that good, then. It’s not like stormtroopers are worth much to you.”

He shrugs, and takes another bite, “True,” he mutters as he eats, “But it’s a damn sight better than that.”

She goes to refute, but he waves a hand in the air as if dismissing her.

“Don’t even try. You are drooling.”

She raises a hand to her mouth, and sure enough, she is.

Its been too long since she has had any other food, something that doesn’t taste like wood or cardboard. And the smell of the fruit, the fish, all of it is making her stomach churn and apparently her mouth to water.

“Fine. It does look and smell much better than this,” She sighs at the bowl and starts moving a few bits around, looking morose.

There is a pregnant silence, one that is only broken when Ben inches his chair a little closer and extends his hand across the bond. In it is the fruit.

“Have you ever tried a JubaJuba fruit?”

She shakes her head, eyes falling to the one in his hand. Is he offering her some? Or will he just pull it away and get some spiteful retribution for his rejection? They just look at each other for the longest time, and then Rey reaches forward. Their fingers touch, briefly, and she feels that same jolt she did on Ach-To and every time since they have touched. Brief moments. The elevator. In the throne room. A couple of times through the bond. And each time its a flash of passion.

Its gone the minute she takes the fruit, and he pulls his hand back. But his eyes are following the fruit as she lifts it to her mouth and takes a slow bite.

It is a little more tart than she expected, and she wrinkles her nose. Though it has some sweetness to cut it, she is not used to such sour things. But it is so much better than the rations. It makes her mouth pucker, her eyes water, and force it makes her tongue sing. She takes another bite.

His eyes are still locked on her as she slowly takes a few more bites, wiping away bits of the juicy fruit. But she didn’t realize how close he is until she feels his finger against her chin. She freezes, fruit halfway to her mouth as he uses his thumb to wipe away some of the juices. And his eyes, those dark brown eyes are glued to her lips. Her skin heats and prickles pleasantly at the contact and at the intensity of his gaze.

Then his eyes slowly make their way up to look at her, his eyes dilated. Her chest is moving up and down much faster than it had seconds ago, and it goes even faster as his thumb slips over her mouth.

And then he pulls back, grabbing her hand and taking the fruit from her. She doesn’t fight, just watches as he takes another bite of the fruit while she watches. This time her eyes fall to his lips, to the blue juices running down his chin again. And not really knowing what possesses her, other than the fire that seems to be flowing through her veins, she reaches out and wipes away the juices from his chin.

He goes rigid as if he hadn’t expected her to touch him. But he doesn’t pull away. His eyes just seem to go a little wider.

She pulls away a few seconds later, tucking her hand against her chest. Her voice comes out hoarse and whispered.

“I think I like JubaJuba fruit. I’d sell a few stormtroopers for one, too.”

He stares at her like the words aren’t registering. As if something has fried his circuits and he isn’t quite computing.

“I think I’d sell them all.” He whispers and then realizes what he said before pushing back in his chair and putting some distance between them. She can just see the tips of his ears turning red as he turns away to stab at his fish.

At first, she thinks he is upset, that he is hacking away at his food like he does with his lightsaber.

Until she realizes he is cutting everything in half and piling it up in a bowl. It dawns on her he means to give her half of his meal. He throws a few fruits from the bowl on top, and then reaches across the bond.

“If they aren’t going to feed you properly, at least I can help. Best if you are not dying of malnutrition when we meet again.”

She wraps her hands around the bowl, and their fingers meet again. The little spark flares back to life.

“Thanks,” she whispers, and he pulls away.

She thinks that will be it, that they can end this little visit on a more pleasant note. But this is Ben Solo, Kylo Ren or whatever name he decides to inherit this decade and she knows him well enough now to know it is never enough. He always has to take it that one last step and ruin it all.

“If you had joined me you would have wanted for nothing.”

A sad smile pulls at her lips. Because he is right, for the most part. If she had joined him, she knows he would have done everything in his power to make her happy. To make her stay.

“I know,” She whispers. She keeps the ‘…but it’s not enough…’ to herself. But it hangs in the air.

“Maybe someday it will be.”

 


	2. Two Halves of a Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben shows Rey how to “fix” a broken kyber crystal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble for the reylo weekly challenge held by [@two-halves-of-reylo](https://two-halves-of-reylo.tumblr.com/) . This week’s theme was “Kyber.” This little puppy turned out fluffier than a fresh marshmallow. 
> 
> Thanks for checking this little piece out. If you like it, let me know! I love to hear from you guys. And if you have an idea for a prompt, feel free to send it my way (especially canon prompts). I love a challenge. You can message me here, drop a comment, or reach out on tumblr - [@ohsnapcrackle](http://ohsnapcrackle.tumblr.com/).

 

“Is it broken?”

The first words to pass across their bond in weeks, and it would be about the legacy lightsaber. They hadn’t crossed words since Crait, even though the bond bridged them with more frequency than before. It seems the more time passes, the more time they are forced to spend in each others presence. They both know there is a purpose in this connection between their souls, this bonding by the force. But the wounds of Crait and the Supremacy are too fresh for them to voice what they both know to be true - the force wants them together. In what capacity - well that is where the real question lies.

The rumbling of his deep voice out of the silence causes her to jump, even though she knew he was there for at least ten minutes.

“What does it look like?” She snaps back, not bothering to look up from her little nest on the floor.

It's her own little spot on the Falcon, surrounded by other little nests of blankets from other survivors. They’ve made something of a barracks in this little part of the Falcon where the wall panels once used to hide smuggled goods have been tucked away for more room. No one else is in the ‘sleep room’ as they have dubbed this section of their lifeboat, for which Rey is thankful. She could work on trying to fix her broken saber in peace.

Or so she thought.

He doesn’t even acknowledge her anger, just walks a little closer. Standing about a foot away so they are not touching takes a seat.

“Can I see it?” He asks quietly, a quiver betraying his emotions.

She considers tucking it away so he can’t see the damage he caused, but knows that would be petty. She had been the one to reach for the saber instead of agreeing to join him. She is the one that put it in danger, that started his panic and made him reach for the same saber. She started the tug of war of souls that caused the crystal to crack and explode. And the saber meant as much to him as it did to her. Probably more.

So she gives in.

Without a word she opens her palms, letting him see the pieces of warped metal and glass shards strewn across her hands.  The crystal once contained in the hilt is now cleaved in two. Right down the middle as if it couldn’t decide which of its two masters it wanted to obey and had chosen to break instead.

He doesn’t bother with the metal chunks or wires but instead reaches for one half of the broken crystal. She doesn’t flinch or move away when his gloved finger briefly makes contact with the palm of her hand as he lifts the crystal from her grasp.

With gentle fingers, he holds it up to some light source she can’t see and twists it - studying it with a furrowed brow.

“It split. Right in half.”

He sounds surprised, though she doesn’t know why. He had to know the saber broke. Something had to cause the huge wave of power that emitted during their tug of war, and it hadn’t been the short-circuiting of a power insulator.

“Yeah, and it hasn’t been the same. I can still feel it like I did before it exploded, but it is quieter. Like it is weak. And I can’t find anything in the texts about repairing the crystal.”

He looks up, meets her eyes and she sees a brief streak of sadness cross them. Then he channels his emotions, reigning them in and reaches back out to drop the broken crystal back into her palm.

“You can’t. Fix it, I mean. Once broken a kyber crystal can’t be repaired.”

Her gaze drops back down to the two shattered halves, her heart sinking because she can feel the truth in his words. “Oh.”

It seems like such a waste. This little crystal had touched so many lives. Spanned generations. And here it is, slowly dying in her hands shattered and broken. She gently closes her fist around the crystal, ignoring the bite of the glass and wires as her eyes water.

It had been her choice to use it against Ben that had led to its demise. All her fault. She knows it's not the whole truth of it. She couldn’t have chosen to go with Kylo Ren. She couldn’t be what he wanted her to be, just as he couldn’t be what she wanted him to become. It had been the only choice - but the crystal had paid the price.

“Hey,” He leans forward a little. When he sees he has her attention he reaches out a hand much like someone trying to pet wild animal they are afraid will bite. When she doesn’t move, he gains a little more confidence and takes her clasped hand. Slowly, while looking her in the eyes, he pries each of her fingers back until her palm is open.

“That doesn’t mean it is finished. There are things you can do with a broken crystal,” His fingers gather around one of the crystals and a bit of metal.

He pulls his hand back to his body, away from Rey. She thinks he will disappear with it, but to her surprise, he brings together both of his hands, palms up with the crystal and metal resting in the center. His eyes slip closed, and she can feel the force swell around him. With eyes wide, she watches in awe as the crystal and metal take to the air hovering above his palms.

The half of the crystal starts to glow a bright blue, like the saber it once powered. It casts shadows over her little nest, the walls, the metal panels of the Falcon. Her breath catches as she hears a little song emitting from the crystal. Low, weak, but still there. The same little melody she heard the day the crystal called to her in the pirate haven.

And then the metal starts to twist and warp, becoming something new and different. She doesn’t immediately recognize the purpose of the shape - not until it starts drifting toward the crystal as if magnetized. With a sudden whoosh, the metal binds itself to the crystal and the two pieces become one. The crystal dims, and the melody ceases. Ben’s eyes flutter open as the crystal falls back to his palm.

“Got a piece of string?” He says with a smug tilt to his lips. Rey knows her mouth is hanging open in shock. She has never witnessed such a thing, and definitely not something that looked so finessed from Ben or the force. She has only ever seen it destroy things. Not create things.

When his words finally click her head, she starts shuffling around her little nest until she finds a rather long copper wire.

“Will this work?”

He shrugs, and takes the offered wire, “For now. I’m sure you’ll find something better.”

He weaves it through the top of the metal, pulls it taut, and twists the end. He spends a few more seconds manipulating the wire until is more of a circle. Then he looks at her expectantly.

“Bend your head,” He commands.

Suddenly the mood changes, uncertainty settling over as Rey’s spine goes rigid at the command. “What?”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to put this over your head.”

And then she realizes what he has made. A necklace. For her. With the broken half of her kyber crystal, the one that once belonged to his entire family. Unsure what to think she just blinks at him. There is a tension in the air now, not from his command or her response, but a weight to it. As if this holds some great significance that she can’t yet fathom. There is a kindness leeching off him and into her from the force that reminds her of the boy she spied on Ach-To. The part of Kylo Ren that will forever be Ben Solo. The light. And because she has always been a bleeding heart, Rey does as asked.

She bends her head.

His clothes rustle as he lifts his hands to either side of her head, and all Rey can think is how vulnerable this position makes her. Even though he can’t shoot her through the bond or slice her with his saber, they have touched. And if they can touch he can surely clasp his hands around her neck and squeeze the light from her. So when she feels the weight of the necklace fall over her neck, she lets out a little sigh of relief. When he pulls back, she lifts her head and meets his gaze.

“Thank you?” It was all she could think to say, even as it comes out as a question. Because what do you say to your sworn enemy making you a necklace from the shard of a kyber crystal once beholden to both of you?

“You are welcome.” He straightens as if she has made him uncomfortable. And that makes her smile a little bit. She lifts her hand to touch the crystal, feels it pulse under her fingertips. He catches her curiosity.

“It is not all the way gone. You can keep it as a reminder. There are even some that believe keeping a crystal with sentimental value holds some power. Skywalker kept the shard of an old sith crystal he found.”

She thinks she remembers something about a necklace with a red crystal around it during her days of Ach-To, but they had been so brief it hadn’t crossed her mind since. It makes her smile widen, though. The thought of the crystal not being dead. That she can wear it close to her heart so she can feel its pulse.

Her eyes fall on the other half of the crystal, still clasped in her hand. When she found the saber, learned of its history, she always knew it was never really her saber to wield. Not completely. She wasn’t the only being in the galaxy it called to. So it only made sense that it should find a home in its other half, too. With resolution set in her heart, she sits up a little straighter. She grabs the crystal and a piece of metal from her palm dumps the rest of the unnecessary pieces. She looks to Kylo as she places the metal and crystal in the palm of her hand.

“Show me how you did that.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Something warm skirts across his eyes and his mouth twitches slightly. An almost smile. He shifts a little closer so their knees are touching. They haven’t been this close since they were fighting the Praetorian guard on the Supremacy, and that been essential touches for battle. Not willing contact in neutral territory. Her palms grow sweaty at this proximity, and she takes a deep breath to try and steady her breathing. The weight that had been hanging in the air for minutes is pressing down on her. She wonders if he feels it as well.

His gloved hands gently encircle her wrists to move her hands a certain way - palms open hands together facing outward. But he doesn’t let go.

“Close your eyes. Draw the force into you.”

She flashes back to the time Luke gave her the first lesson. It wasn’t much of a lesson, but she had learned how to reach out. How to feel. From that, she had gleaned how to pull the force into herself.

Her eyes fall shut. And she tries to pull on the force. She really does. But her blood is hammering in her veins and her ears. All she can think about the proximity between them.

“Focus, Rey.” He whispers, and she feels the breath of it against her skin. He leaned in, she realizes. Close enough that his breath tickles her hair and makes her squirm. Little sparks of electricity scurry down her spine.

“I can’t when you are breathing down my neck,” She bites back. She feels the rumble of his unexpressed laugh through his hands on her wrists. But he pulls away.

With a deep breath, she tries again. And this time it comes a little easier. She feels it pool in her gut, feels it lap against her neurons.

“Good, now think about what you want to make. Picture it in your mind. And when you are ready, with that picture in mind, guide the force to your palms.”

It takes her a couple of minutes to gather her thoughts, to focus the force, and to stop thinking about how close he is. How their knees are knocking together. How his breath had felt against her ear. Yet she manages, and when she feels confident enough she does as he said. She pushes the force through her palms. She imagines how he did the same thing just minutes before.

How the crystal flared to life and sang. Feels the crystal lift from her palm and then as the soft melody of the crystal sings. Imagines the metal contorting into a cap to fit on the crystal. Imagines the loop for the string to thread through. Pictures the final product of a pendant. And when the melody of the crystal fades and the pendant falls to her hand, only then does she open her eyes.

She glances down at her work, and a blinding smile tugs at her lips. She feels the excitement swelling in her chest.

“I did it,” She whispers with incredulity.

“Hmm,” He grunts, and pulls his hands from her wrists as she starts shuffling around. She grasps the crystal in one hand, but the other searches for something else to use for string. Finally, she finds a bit of spliced wiring from a circuit. Deeming it long enough, she turns back to thread it through the pendant. After twisting the end, she looks at him with a quirk of her lip.

“Bend your head.”

He stares at her, eyes wide and oh so readable. She can see the shock. How it slowly registers that she intends to give him the other half of the crystal. To place it over his head as he did the one that now rests over her breast. He hadn’t expected that. Had expected her to take the crystal and wear two, or to give the other way. Perhaps to his mother. Or maybe even the traitorous stormtrooper. But for her to give it to him? She doesn’t need the bond to see all these questions flicker across his face.

She waits patiently for him to catch up, to bend his head. And it takes a minute before he does.

A little thrill runs through her at his bent head, at the fact he trusts her enough to not kill him. Just like she trusted him enough. Despite everything that happened between them, that trust hasn’t been broken. Lots of other things have. Hope. Visions. Predictions. But that their connection still exists. A kindness and understanding between them still endures.

Her heart hurts.

She has to sit up a little so she can reach over his head. Part of the wire gets caught in his curls, the piece of wiring she used not as long as she would have liked. So she has to pull back on some of his hair to adjust the necklace. He stiffens under her as her fingertips graze his neck, tugging some of his hair out of the way. But he doesn’t otherwise move. Not until she sits back and the necklace falls into place against his collarbone.

“Thank you,” He tosses the words she used earlier back at her. She shrugs, considering the new addition to his wardrobe. He would definitely need a different chain.

“It only seemed right that you should have the other half. It was your lightsaber, after all.”

He huffs at that, the closest thing she has ever heard to a laugh come from him.

“About time you listened to me.”

 


	3. The Conflicted Zealot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short musings of Kylo Ren trying to put his thoughts into words for Rey after she rejects him on the Supremacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written for the #reyloweeklychallenge hosted by @two-halves-of-reylo. This week’s theme was ‘fear.’ Somewhere I picked up that Driver mentioned playing Kylo Ren as a religious zealot and it stuck in my mind. So here is conflicted zealot Kylo Ren trying to put his beliefs into words for Rey.

When he sees the scavenger girl shrouded in the force for the first time, he is reminded of himself from years ago. The light is racing through her veins - strong and blinding. It sings with promises of hope and peace. Yet, it’s the teeth of the darkness snapping at the light that captures his attention. He wants to warn her, to teach her what he already knows to be true…

That the path she is headed down is the wrong path…

Sure the light is blindingly beautiful. It whispers of hope, harmony, peace. 

“Sacrifice it all, give me you, and I will make you my vessel to make this grand universe the place it was meant to be. Give me your heart, your soul, your everything. And I will make everything better.” It sings.

He wants to stop her before she jumps down that proverbial rabbit hole. He wants to save her the anguish of squashed hope, damning love, and the promise of balance that will never arrive. But she is too much like him as he was years ago. She is too filled with the hope and promise of the light to see the truths buried in the darkness. She can’t see it’s the light that is an infection that must be purged.

He wants to reach his hand across the bond and to touch her skin like they did days ago. He wants to press his thoughts and memories into her mind; to make her see what he couldn’t put into words that fateful day on the Supremacy.

There are moments he has felt he belonged; some were longer than others. He remembers being enveloped in fierce protection and love by his mother. Sometimes he recalls the pure elation of stars slipping past while play driving the Falcon from his father’s lap. There are even memories of the days before the academy where he would travel with his Uncle Luke to decaying temples. These are momentary respites from the darkness whispering in his ears. But they are just that - brief, fleeting illusions that mask the truth.

He has never belonged.

Heir to a throne of stars, he is always brimming with the darkness - a tide of anger and malcontent. He is sure it existed before “the voice” pervaded his mind and whispered darkness into his tiny ears. Of course, Snoke did it so smoothly he doesn’t know when or how it all really started. He just knows he was born with the temptation, born with the passion, born with some overwhelming power that chews at his nerves and makes him quake with wrath.

For the longest time, he tried to ignore it. He diligently followed the path of Jedi set by his Uncle. Torn from the only things he loved - a mother he loved fiercely and a father he desperately wanted to follow to the ends of the earth. He wanted to make the shadows of fear in their eyes disappear. He would practice with the saber and lift rocks until his hands bled and his tears ran dry. He attacked every lesson with a fever to be good, to be better, to be the greatest. Because when he beat himself into exhaustion he could actually achieve serenity for the briefest moment.

Serenity. Calm. Harmony. Quiet. Balance.

For the briefest moment, they were achieved. Yet, with each year it grew harder. Luke started to pull away, his eyes taking on the shadow that haunted both of his parents. The man that had taken him in with such love and excitement now stared at him with mounting fear. The balance Luke preached drifted further and further away until it grew elusive.

With each failed attempt the darkness would reach up and swaddle him in warmth. It gave him purpose. It set him on his true path and gave him the chance to achieve what his grandfather ultimately failed to do…

He wants to push this into her mind, make her understand this is the vision he imagines for them. This is her true path. But she isn’t ready to hear it. She hasn’t had the light fail her yet. She hasn’t seen the fear in the eyes of those she loves.

He knows it will only be a matter of time before the fear of everyone else sends her seeking his help. He has seen it in his vision and feels it in his bones - together they will purge the force of the illusions of the light.

…Only it is hard to tell her to purge the light in her when all she does is bring it out in him.


	4. Tick Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some mysterious tick marks on the holotable on the Falcon and Rey is curious about their origin. A.K.A. Chewie teaches Rey to play his favorite game and Ben gives her some pointers through the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for [@two-halves-of-reylo ‘s](http://two-halves-of-reylo.tumblr.com/) weekly reylo challenge. This week’s theme was “games.” I hope you enjoy!

 

Rey lets her fingers glide over the dents and scratches in the holotable of the Falcon, imagining how each groove earned its keep. There are scores where Chewie's claws dug into the metal. Probably from frustration while playing Dejarik. But there are other grooves. Small sharp little dings from tools. It makes a small smile pass over her face, knowing this one table has seen so much history. If only it could talk, she thinks. It could give the untold stories of heroes.

She saw Leia passing her hands over the table in reverence a few days ago. Noticed the bittersweet smile pass over the general's face when her fingers stilled over a set of grooves. Rey focuses in on those carvings now.

They look like tallies; very much like the ones she put on the walls of her fighter on Ach-To. But there is a single line of them. A set of five, and another two beside those. Seven. And then they stop.

Lost in thought, she doesn't notice Chewie walking up to the table until he lets out a quiet mournful howl.

"Oh, sorry, Chewie. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Chewie shrugs, and motions for her to scoot over. He slides into the bench taking Rey's spot and presses a button on the table. Immediately the room fills with colorful light as various monsters appear on the board in their respective positions.

"Sure, I'll play. But I don't know the game. We didn't have it on Jakku - at least not where I could play it."

An apology growl emits from Chewie, even though he has nothing to apologize for. Still, it makes her smile to hear the caring in his words. She shuffles toward the table excitedly, eyes alight with interest. A few others on the ship play the game, and she has watched many-a-match over the last couple of months. Though she doesn't know the rules, she has already put a few pieces together.

But Chewie isn't offering to play her, he is offering to teach.

"Are you doing this because no one will play with you?"

Chewie gives a halfhearted shrug.

"He thought you were going to rip his arm off. You can't blame him."

Another shrug.

"Fine. Show me how to play. But I won't put up with your threats."

He gives her a soft affectionate growl as he reaches out to ruffle her hair. She rolls her eyes at him but preens at the attention. It makes her feel like a part of a family, and she can never get enough of that.

From what she has gleaned from Leia and a few others Wookies don't give such affection easily.

It starts out easy enough. Its a good bit like some of the strategy games played in the tents on Niima. There are two opposing teams of monsters that you have to move around to gain as much board as possible. But you have to be mindful of which creatures your monsters are up against, or you could lose a piece. The hard part is learning the advantages and disadvantages of each monster. Some of them are weaker against a certain piece, and some can only move in certain directions. It is a simple concept with near infinite possibilities. Rey is starting to love the game.

And Chewie is, surprisingly, a patient teacher. He will pause and run a move back to explain why it worked or didn't. He will laugh only when Rey laughs at her mistakes but celebrates all her little victories with a roar. He is nothing like he is when playing Poe or any other of the players on the ship. Most of whom have stopped playing because Chewie always loses his cool. So the Wookie has been forced to play against the computer since they can't connect it to the galactic network. Its annoyed Chewie to no end.

They both let out a riot of laughter when one of her pieces gets smashed to pieces by his larger monster.

And then Chewie is being called to the cockpit, something about navigational charts. So Rey is left alone staring at the board with intensity.

"That thing," She hears his voice like he is speaking through water until the bond clicks all the way into focus. She glances up from the board, surprised to see him seated in a chair with a couple of papers in his lap.

"I believe it is called a holotable."

He snorts, "Let me guess, The Wookie talked you into playing?"

Not Uncle Chewie, not Chewie, not even Chewbacca. Just 'The Wookie', a term that doesn't hold much endearment. A term that adds distance. Rey has to fight rolling her eyes at him.

“Teaching me, actually.” She pulls her eyes away from him and rests her chin on her hand as she surveys the board.

“Let me guess, he scared off all the other opponents.”

“Threatened to rip off a few limbs here and there.”

“And yet you still agreed to play him.”

Rey shrugs, not unlike Chewie does when he brushes off threats or danger. “I told him I wouldn’t put up with his threats.”

She can feel the smirk on his face through the bond, doesn’t have to look up to know it is there. She expects him to make a comment about how stupid she is being. Or that it wouldn’t matter. Chewie is a Wookie he will inevitably get made and smash things. He doesn’t.

Instead, he crosses the distance and slides into Chewie's spot.

“You know, with him its less about losing the game to someone than it is intimidating his opponent. You won’t meet a better Dejarik player in the galaxy. When he gets bored with a game or wants to make someone squirm then he starts threatening bodily harm. It's not because he is loosing.”

“Oh,” Rey does turn to look at Ben then, a small crease to her brow as she studies him. He is too busy tracing his fingers over that same little series of tick marks to pay her much attention.

“But, if he decided to teach you, that means he won’t do all that posturing. Its a way of him welcoming you into his inner circle, if you will.”

“Are all Wookie’s like that?”

Its Ben’s turn to shrug. “Don’t really know. Chewbacca is the only one I’ve really known. From my understanding, most of them stick to their home planet. And I wouldn’t put it past Chewbacca to use the common belief Wookies maim their opponents to his advantage. He likes to embrace the stereotypes to throw his enemies off their game.”

“Sounds like a real scoundrel.”

Ben doesn’t say a thing to that, but a sad smile passes over his face. Then he turns his eyes toward the game and his posture changes. He is back to that authoritative man that she sometimes sees bleed through the veneer of Kylo Ren.

“So, what is your next move?” He asks a moment later, turning to look at her.

“I thought about playing this guy,” She motions to a long, skinny alien and then to a square. “But I don’t feel that is wise.”

Ben hmms in agreement.

“He will have you in two if you do that.”

“You know how to play?” Rey looks up, surprised. He gives her a raised eyebrow for the shock.

“Why would I not?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You don’t seem like someone that plays well with others.”

“It only requires one other person for this game. Not a battalion.”

“That's not what I meant, and you know it. You don’t seem like the type to play games for fun.”

“I can see where you would get that impression,” Is all he says before turning back to the board and pointing to a big tan alien with large muscular arms.

“Go with the offensive move. He won’t expect it since you are learning.”

Her attention back on the game, she looks at the creature he is pointing to. It is her heavy hitter. If she threw it in now, then she wouldn’t have anything to go up against one of his bigger pieces later. But the more she studies the board, the more she realizes she wouldn’t have to go up against his bigger piece later. With the blue alien in its current position, she could just slip behind the other pieces and win the game.

She moves the piece he suggests, “Thanks.”

He nods, leans back in the seat giving off an air of disinterest. But she had felt his anxiety through the bond - how he wanted her to follow his advice. Now that she has, he seems more relaxed.

“So you don’t just play. You are really good at this.”

He lets out a long sigh, and his gloved hand shoots out to run over the tick mark grooves. The same ones he keeps going back to, the ones Chewie told her were reminders of the past, the ones that Leia looks at with bitter nostalgia.

“You made those,” Rey motions to the marks, and he stills like a rabbit caught in a snare.

He rips his hand back from the table and she can feel the darkness starting to brew in him. She plows on ahead.

“What do they mean?”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t want to answer. Rey purses her lips, and almost demands he tell her. But then sees the rolling waves of anger emitting from him in the force. So she tries another tactic.

She reaches out a hand to trace them herself, half leaning over the table so the monsters shimmer against her skin.

“You know, when I was on Jakku I would put a tick mark on the wall of my home every day I waited for my parents. At first, it filled up one line of the wall. After years it almost looked like wallpaper; there were so many of them. My point is, you make tick marks unless you are keeping track of something. What were you keeping track of?”

There is noise behind Rey, and she hears the telltale signs of Chewy making his way back from the cockpit. Immediately the bond drops, and Rey pulls her hand back with a sigh. She had been so close to getting him to admit it.

Chewie slides into the place where Ben was sitting, taking a glance at the table and lets out a little groan. Quickly he makes the expected move, just as Ben said he would. And Rey watches as her most powerful piece falls before taking her next turn and taking the game.

For a second Chewie doesn’t say a word. She thinks he will start throwing his arms around and or attempt to rip her arm off. He seems livid in his silence. Can feel the anger rolling off him through the force. But there is something else, too. A mix of recognition and resignation.

Then Chewie lets his hand graze over the tick marks, sticks out a claw and adds another tick to the table. Eight. Eight marks.

And then Rey and Chewie's eyes meet. He knows Ben was here. He has known about the bond since she told him her ridiculous plan to save his nephew. And now he knows that connection is back. That Ben told her to make the move. And Chewie recognized the move as one of Ben's.

Her eyes fall back to the marks and she knows what they were for.

They were all the times Ben beat his Uncle Chewie at Dejarik.


End file.
